Unexpected discoveries
by OverlyImaginative
Summary: Sherlock finds out something about John and this follows from the new discovery. Established Johnlock. Warnings include m/m and self harm. My friend requested I write this and I had help from a very lovely girl whom I thank. This is my first fanfic on this and I do hope I did the subject well. If not I apologize greatly.


John looked up when Sherlock entered their bedroom. "Hey, are you actually coming to bed tonight?" He asked with a smile at his partner as he quickly pulled on his usual white pajama top.

"In a minute, I still have to check some data for this new case. Do you think Lestrade is still awake?" Sherlock was staring intently at his phone, giving John a chance to cover himself, "I might need access to Scotland Yard's files" He explained. Sherlock lifted his eyes from his mobile too quickly and got a glimpse of john's torso. His stomach jumped slightly as he saw the skin that he was never allowed to see.

John silently hoped that Sherlock hadn't seen them, the red marks that were covering a lot of his tanned flesh. "Probably not, Sherlock. The man does need sleep occasionally" He replied with a small chuckle and moved to the window to shut it and found himself staring out at the street. He was going to bed soon.

Sherlock dropped his phone into his pocket and slinked to the window to embrace John from behind. His arms snaked around John's waist and kissed his neck sweetly. "I'll call him tomorrow then; I think you might need my attention more than the case tonight" Earning a confused glance from his John.

The army doctor let out a hiss of breath when he moved slightly and his partners tight arms rubbed against the recent lacerations "What do you mean?"

Sherlock let go of John and made him turn around to face him "John, I am the world's leading expert in deduction." He started "You can't fool me. Your eyes are red, signalling that you are tired or have been crying. Your hands have been shaking all day long, proof of stress. And most importantly, you are not wearing your red pants on a Monday;" He observed with a smile but it was fleeting, leaving his face covered with an expression of worry "You're clearly upset about something. Now stop being a bore and tell me what the matter is"

John avoided eye contact as he tried to pull away, freezing when his sleeves started to move up his arms from the effort. He stared at them and tried to shuffle them down but Sherlock's grip was tight. "Forget about it, Sherlock. I've just been stressed" With all of his struggling, he could feel one one of the more recent cuts open under Sherlock's hand. He prayed blood wouldn't soak through the thin material.

Sherlock moved his hands to John's face and grabbed his chin tightly, forcing him to look up and meet Sherlock's gaze. He hadn't notice the thin line of blood spreading along the white material where his hand had just left. Sherlock tried to look past the physical part of deduction and looked straight into John's blue eyes. Usually when he did this, John's eyes would spark up and greet him. But this time John's eyes where empty, dry, dead. Sherlock suddenly panicked and pushed John deeper into the room. Maybe it was just the moonlight or the darkness of the night, he told himself. He needed to see John's eyes in the light; he needed to see the spark. He didn't know what he would do if he couldn't see it.

John would admit how very confused he was as Sherlock pushed him further into their room but nonetheless let him do it. He kept glancing down to his arm and almost felt like crying at the spreading stain. "Sherlock, what are you doing?" He asked, still trying to avoid all eye contact so kept his eyes trained on his partner's neck. He felt too stressed, too out of control and he found his gaze sliding to the bathroom, where his razors sat hidden away under the sink in the small cupboard.

Sherlock saw John's eyes trail to their bathroom and rushed towards its open door. He entered the blue painted room and found himself shivering in its temperature. He opened the cabinet in a rush to search haphazardly, he looked in the laundry basket, and he even opened the shampoo bottles. What was John hiding from him? Could it be drugs? Sherlock's mind was working frantically, almost giving him a headache.

Finally he looked under the sink. He jerked open their small cupboard they keep the spare towels in. Sherlock hadn't been in it since John moved to their room, seeing as they kept all the towels he needed on the heated railing attached to the wall. He moved his hands around, shoving the white towels out of the way and stopped dead when he spied a small basket filled with a small bunch of razors. He observed them, wondering what their use could be, when he spotted a small amount of dried blood stained on a larger one. It all clicked into place in his mind like this was the final puzzle piece and found his eyes suddenly filled with tears. He couldn't stand to picture John hurting himself like that

John had tried to rush into the bathroom before him but Sherlock beat him to it. He had tried to direct him away from the sink the whole time, his heart beating frantically. When Sherlock saw them he took in a sudden sharp breath "Sherlock, I-I can explain those" He started and pushed the towels over to hide them again, to shield his partners eyes from his dried blood. He desperately wanted out of this bathroom. Sherlock was shaking when he placed his arms around him, trying to pull him towards the door.

Sherlock was fighting to keep back his tears, not wanting to let John see his weakness. He was enraged that his partner would do such a thing. "What the hell were you thinking John? You are a doctor! You know how dangerous this is! I... I just ... I can't believe this" He fumed, his voice getting fainter as his emotions became stronger. How had he not seen this coming? Had he been too invested in his work and neglected his partner? He shrugged the doctor's arms off of him.

John wanted to reach out for him, "I know what I'm doing Sherlock" The urge to comfort his partner when he finally saw the man's heartbroken expression, the shining eyes filled with unshed tears "I-I didn't think you'd care that much" He muttered more to himself. His gaze slid back to the now hidden razors as he felt way too out of control, needing to get it back.

"Not care? John you are the only person I have ever loved." He started "I wake up every single day giving thanks that you are beside me." Sherlock's tears had won the battle and were trailing down his face, dripping into his mouth. He could taste their saltiness "What would I do without you? I can't even imagine my life without you in it. If I hadn't met you…" He trailed off, letting John finish the sentence in his mind. Sherlock took one of his hands and guided him to sit on the cold bathroom floor next to him. "I know I find it hard to show my emotions and it must be frustrating for you but... of course I care. I love you John" His eyes searched for the missing spark in John.

John blinked back his tears "I love you too, Sherlock" His voice broke embarrassingly. He moved a hand up to brush away Sherlock's tears off his cheeks gently. He felt guilt well up in him as the large stain of blood that had soaked through his sleeve became apparent and he noticed Sherlock's all seeing gaze zone in on it.

Sherlock pulled back John's sleeve and his stomach dropped at what he saw. John was really hurt; the large slashes were bleeding a lot. Sherlock's mind cleared up as he finally knew what he had to do for John, he needed to clean these up. He got up swiftly and grabbed a bottle of anti-septic and a roll of bandage from the first aid kit they kept in the cabinet. They needed more surgical dressing, he noted as he searched the kit.

John looked at the door and pushed himself to standing quickly and quietly, deciding to go to their room while pulling his shirt sleeve down. In the end, he silently left the freezing bathroom to their comfortable bedroom. He lowered himself onto their bed slowly and kept his hand tight against the wound. The doctor in him knew that it should be cleanly dressed but he didn't want to. His gaze slipped to the bathroom when he heard a panicked voice ask "John?"

Sherlock had turned to see only empty space where John had been situated and immediately thought that he had run off. With the blood loss, his mind immediately went to an image of john's dead body somewhere in the city never to be seen against by the detective. He panicked and rushed into the bedroom, going for his forgotten phone when he spotted his John. He fast beating heart slowed when he sat next him, trying to grip his love's arm and push up his soaked sleeve.

John shook his head adamantly and kept his sleeve down "No. I'm fine." He says like a sulking child. He desperately doesn't want Sherlock to witness the rest of them that cover a very large portion of his body. The main reason his partner had never seen him undressed in the light.

"John, please... let me..." Sherlock was begging him. He couldn't stand to see John suffer like this, it was breaking his heart the way John kept wincing whenever he moved his hand slightly and the sleeve rubbed against his stinging skin.

John stared at him for a moment before sighing in defeat "Just...Don't look anywhere but the cut" He said as he took his hand away, allowing his partner to push up his sleeve. "Please" He begged as the material was pushed up his arm.

Sherlock knew that comment meant that he had more wounds and he had an urge to see every single one and bandage them all. But he didn't want to scare John off so he obeyed; he needed to do this gently. Sherlock cleaned the wound with the anti-septic, flinching himself as John reacted to the stinging liquid, and then wound the bandage around John's wrist after applying to skin closures. When he was done, he leaned in and pressed a kiss to John's hand as though apologising for the recent pain.

John felt tears spring to his eyes as he watched Sherlock do this all. He felt guilt at upsetting the detective so much so pulled the man towards him, close enough to wrap his arms around his partner's warm body. "It's not that bad" He said gently as he tried to soothe the man in his arms.

Sherlock clung to John for a minute before freeing himself and lay back on the bed. His arms opened, signalling John to lie with him.

John contemplated for a moment but shook his head "Wait a moment," He ordered. He approached his drawer and pulled out another top. He cursed as he realized the one he was wearing was his last long sleeved and looked back at Sherlock before pulling his current one off, wincing as the dried blood was ripped away from his skin. He was replacing it with one of his short sleeved black T-shirts. A breath was taken before turning to the man lying back on the bed and hoped that he wouldn't be looking the many wounds and scars that covered all of his arms. He knew the detective's curiosity was too strong though.

Sherlock's eyes filled with tears again when he saw the extension of John's wounds and marks. He kept quiet, though. This had been going on for some time, he noted at the newer and the more faded scars that were shadows of his partner's old pain. He desperately wanted John to get well, to stop hurting himself like this. He knew he would have to take baby steps to get to that point. Sherlock spooned John tightly from behind, sighing as the man's body heat radiated onto him. He thought for a moment before stating "Let's just go to sleep now, but we'll talk tomorrow, okay?"

"Can't you just forget you saw this? Besides, we're going to the crime scene tomorrow" John sighed and felt better when Sherlock's body heat surrounded him. His arm was stinging and he found it painful to lie on his thighs from the also recent attack on them. He ignored it in favour of cuddling with Sherlock, though.

"We're not going to the crime scene anymore. I'll call Lestrade and tell him to take this one without our help. Besides he could use the practice." Sherlock replied with a smirk, he was trying to lift the mood and make John laugh a little "I want to stay in with you. We'll order Chinese food and play cluedo, okay? Just a nice day in, just the two of us to talk about. And don't think this is because of my enlightenment of recent events. It's because I want to"

"What's this about?" John blurted in confusion but then blushed "I mean, I know what it's about. But you'd never give up the chance to go to a crime scene, why the sudden interest in me?" He wanted to understand what was going on. Why was Sherlock acting like this? He was usually out the door in a flash when that phone buzzed.

"Well, I'm worried John." He decided to say "Is this because I haven't paid attention to you? Have I made you do it? If so, then I want to fix it. And you are _always_ more important to me than some case," Sherlock was trying to be careful; he didn't want to scare John or make him feel worse but he wanted the doctor to know how important he was to him. He just wanted John to be happy and the thought of John being upset was a real pain in his chest.

John thought this over, the words sinking in. He turned abruptly in Sherlock's arms and stared into his eyes in desperation for him to understand "Never think that this is your fault. Never." He pressed a hard kiss to Sherlock's lips and pulled him even closer, leaning their foreheads together "This isn't about the amount of attention you give me" He raised an eyebrow and in an attempt to lighten his partners mood he said "Though you really should notice me more" With a smirk

Sherlock gave a small chuckle as stared for a moment before kissing John back. He appreciated his attempt but inside he still felt guilty. Wanting to keep john happy for the night, he said "let's forget about it for now, kiss me"

John smiled "Happily" He said before brushing his lips against Sherlock's gently before pressing harder.

Sherlock wrapped his arms around John and pulled him on top, being careful not to hurt his arms by not grabbing too hard.

John let out a small moan and traced Sherlock's lips with his tongue. His hands went up to tangle in his partners raven curls as they kissed but eventually, he noticed the way Sherlock was holding him; like he might break at any moment. He pulled back before snapping "I'm not going to shatter, Sherlock. And you're not going to hurt me"

"Are you sure? I don't want you to be in pain, we can just sleep" Sherlock wanted nothing more than to have John right there right then, he wanted to show his partner how much he loved him, how much he wanted him alive but he also didn't want to hurt him in any way. He had never felt like this for someone and he didn't intend to lose it because of his urges.

John let out a small growl and attacked Sherlock's lips with his own "I definitely do not want to sleep" He said once he had decided to come up for air. He ran his hands up Sherlock's chest, feeling the taunt muscles through his tight purple shirt. He was nervous for this time as he had never let Sherlock see his body in the light, though he couldn't get away from it now. Besides, he wanted this man too much right at that moment.

Sherlock grabbed John's head and pulled it down to kiss him hard. He was feeling the usual growing in his trousers, and he could feel John's arousal as well, making him almost desperate to feel their skin pressed together. He unbuttoned his own shirt, wanting John to see his pale body so that he could feel comfortable showing his own.

John felt up Sherlock's chest, letting out a small breath as he stroked the thin but muscular expanse of skin. He closed his eyes before pulling his own top up, breaking the kiss to pull it over his head and leaning down and kissing along Sherlock's jawline. He then began pressing kisses to his partner's neck when he sucked gently and nibbled at the skin.

Sherlock let out a moan of pleasure and ran his hands along John's back tracing his spine until he reached John's arse. He grabbed it tightly, thrusting up against the man atop him.

He pushed back into Sherlock's grip, keeping his concentration on the marks he was leaving on his lovers neck. He moved his hand down to Sherlock's arousal and felt the man gasp as he pressed his own against the detective's strong thigh.

Sherlock felt John's wandering hand and almost let out a scream of pleasure. He wanted John, now. Sherlock rolled over until he was on top of the doctor and kissed his neck, then the chest and eventually, he unzipped John's trousers and pushed them off his hips slowly. He got off the bed and removed his own trousers before climbing back on to John and kissing him passionately. He needed him.

"Oh... God... Sherlock" He gasped every time they paused their kiss for breath. He pulled back "I need you right now" He growled and went back to the assault on his partners mouth, his hips grinding up against Sherlock without thought.

Sherlock broke their kiss and stared into John's eyes looking for the spark, he saw a glimpse of the old blazing light. Not much, but it was good enough for him. Sherlock kissed John one more time before eliminating the problem of their underwear and then grasping john's erection with one hand and kissing it. "Do you want this?" he asked in a low, sultry voice

John let out a loud moan "Yes, yes Sherlock" He wanted to feel his partner's manhood "I want you" He thrust into Sherlock's grip.

Sherlock pecked John's cock again and then let go to position himself right above. He put John's legs over his shoulders and leaned in to kiss him then said "ready?" He began preparing his partner with his fingers, reaching two in and readying him with cold lubricant he had retrieved from their bedside table.

John nodded, biting his lip as he looked up at Sherlock. He took in a sharp breath when the cold lube was rubbed against him. Once the detective thought he was ready, he began pushing into him, earning a small cry from John but it soon turned into a lustful moan. "I love the feeling of you inside me" He growled and wished that Sherlock would thrust.

When he was completely inside, he paused to savour the moment. His only reply was to smile and pull his hips back before rocking forward, pushing back into his lover. He quickened his pace every time.

John's breath came quicker as the detective thrust into him. "Oh... Sherlock" He kept letting out excited noises or whimpering his partner's name. He let out a cry as Sherlock brushed against his prostate "Right there!" He almost yelled in the ecstasy.

Sherlock loved the feeling of having control of the situation and watching John in such joy. He could feel they were both close to climaxing and every time John opened his eyes he could see the spark of life growing brighter and brighter. Sherlock stopped thinking so much and let go completely, he grabbed John's arms and pulled them over his head without realizing he was probably hurting him.

John ignored the pain but let out a small yelp in surprise. He felt so close. He arched his back up and closed his eyes while he let the pleasure consume him. His voice was filled with lust as he almost screamed Sherlock's name.

Sherlock cried John's name as he came inside the doctor while John himself climaxed onto his own stomach. Sherlock then lay atop of John, basking in the glow of making love and being so very close to John. Sherlock kissed him and whispered "I love you, John Watson"

John smiled at the man resting on him "I love you too, Sherlock Holmes" He enjoyed the feeling of their naked skin pressed together. He was thinking this over when he recalled the many cuts all over his torso, thighs and arms. He didn't know if Sherlock had seen them during this. He hoped to god he hadn't.

"Want to take a shower with me?" Sherlock asked flirtatiously as he rose from the bed and walked to the bathroom stark naked. Smiling in contentment and not looking back at John.

John watched after him and looking up and down his naked body, his gaze lingering on his pert derriere He got up quickly, following the detective and standing back as he turned on the warm shower "I'd love to" He smiled and memorized every single detail he could about the mans body.

Sherlock grabbed John's hand and pulled him under the hot spray of water. He grabbed the sponge and poured a shower gel on it which he noticed smelled like limes. He started to rub John's body, bringing the soap to lather when suddenly he saw the bloody marks and it all slammed back into his mind. He glanced to the sink remembering the razors and his high spirits belly flopped into a deep abyss. He thanked the water running down his face, so that John couldn't notice his tears this time.

John could sense Sherlock's change in mood "Hey, I'm okay" he said, smiling at his lover. He wasn't sure if Sherlock had noticed the deep ones, the ones that made him seriously debate calling an ambulance the day before. But he had stitched the ones that needed it and eventually stopped the bleeding. They were fine now but still looked bad.

Sherlock's trained eyes analysed his body, he focused on a few cuts guessing how deep and dangerous it had gotten more up his arm, near the crook of his elbow. He grabbed John's left arm and kissed each wound, each mark of pain. It was as though he was trying to leave a little bit of himself in all of them as if to make them disappear at that moment. He then did the same with the other arm and then stood up to pull John into a tight embrace. "Don't ever do this again do you hear? I can't stand it" He whispered in john's ear, the pain was evident in his voice.

John let the tears run down his cheeks; they were mixing with the warm water of the shower but knew Sherlock could see them in his eyes. His voice broke as he tried to reply "I-I can't promise it" His heart felt like it was being squeezed as he saw Sherlock so affected. Not once since he had met the detective had he ever acted this way, let his emotions control him.

Sherlock felt anger swelling inside of him like a storm "then tell me WHY! _WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS_? Is it your sister? Work? Is it…" He looked down at John, the water dripping over his face; his usual curls were soaked and sticking to his face. He blinked the running water out of his eyes, needing to see his love. His expression was one of pure fear and insecurity. "is it me?" Sherlock brought his hands to clutch John's shoulders and slammed him against the Shower wall "tell me! We can fix it... together" He hesitated on the last word. He had never had to be this close another person.

John stared for a moment, desperation clawing him apart from the inside. Desperation for Sherlock to understand. "It's not my sister, it's not work and it most definitely _NOT YOU_!" He shouted back, desperately. "IT'S ME! I FEEL SO OUT OF CONTROL!" He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He felt the cold wall against his back and shivered. "It's me" He kept whimpering under his breath.

"I just... I don't understand." He needed to understand, for John "Is it the war? Maybe you need to go see your therapist again" Sherlock noticed the shiver and embraced John pulling him back under the hot water, into the safety of his arms. Where he could watch him, where he could protect him.

"I don't need a therapist" He said cried but took a deep, shaky breath "When... When you jumped, I pulled away. I had nobody for three years and I couldn't control a damned thing, not my life, not my emotions, not anything. This gave me a sense of control." He didn't need to gesture to the wounds, he knew Sherlock would know what he was talking about.

"You know that I had to do it, you know _why_ I had to do it," Sherlock looked down into John's eyes "I'm here now, you need to stop or you won't be here for much longer, John" Sherlock felt the guilt every day, the guilt of leaving the man he loved to be on his own. It had been the hardest he had had to do in his life, to leave without even saying goodbye, too hear from his brother how bad it affected his John "I did it to save your life." He whispered more to himself than John "I'm not having you risk it now. Not now that we're together, not now that we're happy. .. Because you are... happy… right?" He was so unsure of himself in that moment

"Of course I know you had to do it, I forgave you a long time ago" John soothed "It was the control it gave me. Now it's a habit I have for when I feel stressed or can't manage myself." John paused and gave thought for a moment "And I'm the happiest I've ever been, being with you" He suddenly felt self-conscious as a terrible reflexion claimed him "You're happy with me, aren't you?"

"I am when I'm with you" Sherlock admits that he had never felt like this before for another person "but you scared me tonight. Please, you have to stop it. Please... please John" He pleaded with the man in his arms, his eyes wide and shy. He would never let another see him this way, so under confident.

John made a large decision at that moment "I can do it. I've stopped before. I just didn't want to this time," He looked down as he quietly say "I'll stop. But I need your help, it'll be hard to resist." His gaze slides to the hidden away razors, still sitting in the hiding place and fights the serious urge to destroy them right at that moment.

Sherlock felt his stomach relax at the words though he was not entirely calm, his heart was still beating too fast, his chest rising and falling quickly and it felt like there was a band around his lugs, constricting the amount of air he could consume at once "This is serious John, I need you to be better. I need you to be okay" His face crumpled as he let out a small noise of misery, it was all too much. He was only recently used to letting himself feel things again.

John squeezed his arms around Sherlock's waist as he let the detective weep into the crook of his neck. He rocked them gently, matching the shaking sobs that wracked the detectives body. "I'll stop, I promise I will. Not just for you but for me, I can't keep doing it" He whispered into his love's ear "I love you"

Sherlock listened to the doctor, letting the sobs die down as he pulled John even closer into his arms. He silently told himself he was going to be there for his John. "I love you too" He smiled as he leaned back, staring at his partner "Idiot," he finished with affection.

They turned off the shower, stepping out to wrap a towel around themselves. Sherlock took that as a moment to search for the razors again, finding them and taking them away somewhere while John dried himself off. It was when he was back in bed, in a pair of comfortable flannel trousers and a black t-shirt that the detective returned. "Where did you go?" He asked with a yawn as he turned on his side, watching the other man pull off the towel and change into his normal pyjamas. He was fighting to keep his eyes open.

He slid into bed behind john, wrapping his arms around the doctor as he cuddled down, getting comfortable. They fit together perfectly. "I know what it's like" He said to the man that was already asleep "I know the urge to hurt yourself. I stopped though, and I'll help you stop. I promise" His mind wandered to the faded scars that covered his body. He had never told John about his past problem, too scared the man would be put off by the scars that use to cover his entire body but had faded with the help of time and cream. It made him feel weak, how he couldn't stop at first and had to cut himself to feel something.

"I know you do" came a sleepy voice "And I love you even more for your strength to stop,"

At that, Sherlock felt his heart swell with love for the man he was holding. He let himself drift into a deep sleep with a smile and happy hopes for their future.


End file.
